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Tuesday, 14 February 2012

MEXICAN SOUVENIRS by Eric Beetner

TK'n'C welcomes top writer, Eric
Beetner, with this nasty offering, which the faint of heart need not read (and who shouldn't be here anyway)...

Mexican Souvenirs

Ryan could swear that girl was
flirting with him.

Must be
the heat. Ten days in Mexico and not a single girl had given him a second look.
Every damn one of his frat buddies stayed so knee deep in pussy they’d run out
of condoms by the fifth day. Ryan still had three Trojans making rings in the
leather of his wallet.

But, the
Mexican beauty waiting for a security check to board same flight back to
Chicago, she gave him the eyes.

It
could’ve been he was horny, or frustrated with killing time in the hotel bar
every time he saw a coat hanger on the hotel room door. It clouded his
judgement more than usual. He believed a girl that hot could see something in
him.

Kris, the
sensible one, put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “You don’t bail out of
Cancun to go study. It’s like fucking your sister, it’s just not done.”

“I
already changed my flight.”

They all
knew. They’d seen him strike out night after night in a south-of-the-border
replay of every weekend since Freshman year. Seth, the engineering major, liked
saying Ryan was a chick magnet whose polarity had been reversed.

In the
closest thing he had to smooth move, Ryan dragged his duffle bag up the long,
unmoving line to a drink vendor behind where the girl sat on her suitcase. He
nearly tripped over a woman breast feeding her baby. She recoiled from the
impending collision and the baby pulled free, exposing her boob and the
engorged nipple leaking milk. Ryan apologized and hoped like hell the girl
hadn’t seen.

He
ordered a horchata and tried to act casual as he slowly turned
to spy on her from a new vantage point. She was gone. Shit. Probably went to
the hotel to fuck anyone wearing a Rho Delta Omega shirt. Anyone but him, that
is.

Ryan
turned back to the counter and jumped when he discovered her standing next to
him.

“Hola,”
she said.

“Hi
there,” he said. “I mean, hola.”

“You’re
American?” Damn cute accent. She didn’t need any help, though. Thin, dark
hair, green eyes, full breasts. Put this girl on a tourist poster and Cancun
would be sold out for a year.

“Yeah,
American. What about you?” Idiot. Keep it together.

She
laughed. “Carmelina.” She held out a hand. Ryan shook it.

“Ryan.”

“Come
with me,” she said.

He
obeyed. Carmelina picked up her purse, took his hand. In his head Ryan began
composing his letter to Penthouse Forum: I used to think this kind of
thing didn’t really happen...

She led
him away from the security line. He worried about losing his place in the
glacially moving line of frustrated passengers. Screw it, give his seat away.
Midterms can wait.

Carmelina
threw looks over her shoulder, smiling in a coy Señorita way that made Ryan
erect already. He tried to keep calm, not seem too eager.

She
scanned the terminal left, then right. No one paid attention. She pulled him
into the restroom.

Ryan’s
heart sped up to a dangerous pace. Giggling, she brought him to the stall
farthest from the door. He heard a toilet flush from another stall. She put a
finger to her lips, “Shhhh.” He couldn’t help the goofy grin plastered on his
face.

She
pulled him in and kissed him, locking the door behind his back. Ryan dropped
his duffle on the floor, unconcerned about the sanitation of a Mexican airport
bathroom.

She
turned him around, away from the door and broke their kiss. “It’s okay?”

His grin
was back. His erection never left. “Yes. Okay. Yes.”

She moved
in for another kiss. She ran a hand down his shirt, ending on his belt. She
unfastened it like an expert safe cracker; one-handed, eyes closed.

Feeling
behind, Ryan latched a hand onto her left breast. He knew he was squeezing too
hard.

She
playfully bit his lip and spun his body around, his face inches away from the
white tile walls. She was in control and that was fine by Ryan. He let her lead
wherever she wanted to go.

His pants
were quickly down around his knees, boxer shorts with them. He heard a snap
like rubber. She even brought her own condoms!

A click
of something metallic confused him for a second but whatever this girl was in
to, count him in.

A cold
knife blade came to rest against his neck.

“Stay
still,” she said.

He felt
pain but not from the knife. His asshole was being opened and something shoved
in – needless to say – against his will.

His
reflexes ignored the knife, Ryan spun his head to look behind him.

Carmelita
was wearing one surgical glove. The gloved hand came out of her purse with a
small, but not small enough, plastic-wrapped bundle of white. He saw an open
container of Vaseline on the tank of the toilet. When had she gotten that out?

She
dipped the plastic in the lubricant and it disappeared up his ass to join the
one already in there.

When he
started to scream, the knife bit in. “Stay quiet,” she ordered.

She
forced the package inside him, deeper than he thought possible. To his horror
she was making room for a third delivery.

Once the
bundles were inside his rectum she removed the knife, stripped off the latex
glove and stepped back.

Gently,
Ryan turned around. His erection was long gone and he’d never needed a shit
more in his life.

She spoke
and suddenly the accent wasn’t so charming. “There are three associates with me
on the plane. You fuck with us and you die. Once we get to O’Hare we’ll do this
in reverse. You’re good to me and I’ll even hold your balls when I do it. Try
anything stupid and I’ll rip them off. Understand?”

Ryan
nodded. He understood he’d been an idiot to think a girl like Carmelita would
give him a second look.

He got
back in the security line, feeling her stares on his back, his cheeks clamped
shut and wondering what the hell he was gonna tell the guys when they got
back.

Spring
fucking break. Yeefuckinhaw.

Bio:

Eric
Beetner is the author of Dig Two Graves and Split Decision,
co-author (with JB Kohl) of One Too Many Blows To The
Head and Borrowed Trouble. His award-winning short fiction has
appeared in Pulp Ink, D*cked, Off The Record, Grimm Tales, Discount Noir,
Murder In The Wind and the upcoming Million Writers Award: best new
online voices. For more visit ericbeetner.blogspot.com

Saving Ryan's private parts? For an orphan story to hit TKnC? Brilliant beat of Beetner bargained with Bury for delivery.

I go back now twice Eric in the smooth reread of you - first time I marvel at the story; next run through, the deliberate ease you put into the pacing of your tale and characterizations along the way. Something told me "Yeefuckinhaw" was too damn cool of a college cheer to get only one interplay.

Funny thing is, is it's believable as hell. That's a trademark of Eric's stuff. Slam back a couple of Mescals in Cancun, fall for a couple of black coral eyes and bad girl lips, take your finger off your . . . um . . . number and most anything can happen. Had me all the way, Mr. B. Cool.

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